Stubborn Love
by Wilb
Summary: Unrequited love can be a real bitch. Elena thought she had removed Damon from her heart for good, but are things always that clear cut?
1. Chapter 1

My life, up until this point, had become a series of paradoxes. I wanted to travel, but I didn't want to leave home. I wanted excitement, but needed calm. I wanted to move forward and start my life, but found myself walking backwards at almost every opportunity. And, perhaps, my biggest contradiction of all, was that I loved Damon Salvatore, but I wanted, quite desperately, to hate him.

Unraveling the ball of yarn that told the story of Elena Gilbert and Damon Salvatore would bring us to the start of my freshman year of college. Where, if I was so inclined, I could pin the blame of us meeting onto my pledge sister for innocently dating his roommate, making the collision of our lives inevitable.

I'd known all my life I was going to rush Sigma Omega Sigma. I was a legacy shoo-in. Both my mother, sister and countless other female Gilberts had spent their formative college years in that elite sisterhood. There was never really any question I'd join them in the ranks.

Hell week was exactly what it said on the box. Hell. Sure, _officially_, hazing had long been banned. And if Panhellenic got a whiff of it the sorority would be toast. But unofficially? It was carte blanche. In the end though, our whole pledge class made the grade and I got to meet Bonnie Bennet and Caroline Forbes in the process, two girls who I was sure would bring truth to the whole 'sororities make life long friends' dictum.

Halfway through our first year Bonnie started dating Alaric Saltzman, a pre-med who wasn't involved in the Greek system, something Bonnie used to get a hard time about from the rest of the girls. I'd heard about Alaric's roommate around campus before we had even encountered each other. Also pre-med, Damon was a high-school lacrosse star who'd turned down the numerous scholarships offered to him, determined to drop sport altogether to focus on academics. Being a legacy as well, and with his athletic background, he could have had the pick of top fraternities. But, causing a stir in the microcosm of college life, those offers also went rejected. Still, though being all of eighteen, he made a splash anyway. His admittedly good looks and casual brush off of the campus hierarchy had the female population head over heels.

The night he and I met, Bonnie, Caroline and I had just finished pulling a prank on a rival sorority. Intoxicated, we'd somehow gotten separated afterward, and with my stellar luck, I walked right into the two campus police who'd just had a report called in about three girls TP'ing and forking the lawn of the Tri Delt house. I'll never forget the memory I have of looking over the officer's shoulder while I was attempting to act sober and make up an alibi on the spot, only to see a figure sitting on a low brick wall watching the interaction curiously, the lit end of his cigarette and the ice blue of his eyes the only things visible in the night.

I'd watched as he stomped out the smoke beneath his foot and strode over like the whole world was waiting on him. In five minutes flat he had his arm around me and had the cops buying some bullshit story about me being his girlfriend and that I couldn't possibly be the culprit because we'd been together all evening.

To this day when I ask him why he saved a stranger like that, he won't tell. For the thrill of pulling the wool over the authorities' eyes I guess. Damon has always lived for the thrill.

It was only later that night when I put two and two together that I realized he was Alaric's roommate, and Damon Salvatore.

Alaric and Bonnie eventually broke up, as so many freshman year romances tend to do, but for whatever reason Damon and I stayed stuck in each other's lives. It even became a in-joke between our friends. How the girl who was social chair and voted Theta Chi fraternity sweetheart two years running was joined at the hip with her best friend, the guy who'd slept with half the campus and spent the majority of his free time getting high.

I suppose even if you asked us, we wouldn't really be able to tell you why we worked so well. A good seventy percent of our friendship was spent bickering and biting at each other. But somewhere within those four years, the foundation of a loyal, inseparable alliance had been formed.

The falling in love with him part happened gradually. There wasn't one unforgettable moment when it hit me or anything. All I know is I started college without the faintest of idea who Damon Salvatore was and ended it with him securely meshed and tangled around my heart.

Did he reciprocate any of those feelings for me? Most of the time I severely doubted it. Yes, he flirted with me, but that meant nothing special. To say Damon was a notorious flirt was like saying the grass is green. Redundant. And every once in a while I entertained the idea of sleeping with him, to see if we could get rid of the sexual tension that crackled in the background around us. I think I wanted to check if he'd throw me away after that, just like he'd done with all his other girls, or if there was something more tangible there, but I was always too terrified to put our friendship to the test.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't spending my life pining away over him. I dated my own fair share of guys and my heart didn't break every time I saw him with another woman. The love I felt for him was more like a secret I kept tucked away, to pull out and think about in the dark.

It was the year after we all finished college when things started to fall apart. The core group of our friends; Bonnie, Caroline, Alaric, Damon and I ended up staying in town. All finding our own shoebox apartments, only a few miles away from the campus we had left behind. It was like we didn't want to venture out any further lest we get eaten alive by the real world.

Bonnie and Caroline got jobs they were happy with straight off the bat. They started their own career paths that stretched out limitlessly in front of them. Alaric, who had changed his major from pre-med to History, had a few promising opportunities opening up and he was content working at the local bar he'd always worked at while he figured out what he wanted to do.

It was Damon and I who had seemed to be stuck in free fall, both confused with where to continue from there. Damon, who had scored high enough on the MCATS to be able to go to any med school in the country, suddenly decided he wanted to take a year off. And it was then I began to realize Damon was terrified of failing. He had done it with the scholarships, with the fraternities and now with his future. He just didn't like living up to any expectations people placed on him.

Me? I was scared too. Scared of choosing the wrong path. Scared to leave the people I loved behind. So I ended up running in place, pretending I had it all worked out, while inside I was simultaneously screaming for change and for nothing to change at all.

And that's where I was today. Staring at a letter I'd been reading for the last week, carrying around an offer that had the potential to flip everything upside down. I sat in a daze, my chin resting on my knees, my dress half zipped.

Damon's voice startled me from my reflections, something he had the uncanny ability to do at the worst of times. "Are you seriously not ready yet? We have one hour to make an hour and a half drive."

I smiled, turning around on my unmade bed to take in his his frustrated expression. As lackadaisical as Damon was in pretty much every other component of his life, he had a weird hangup about perfect time keeping.

"Easy, grouchy. I'm ready. I can do my make-up in the car." Standing up, I hobbled around the room on one kitten heel until I found its mate and slipped it on. Damon came up behind me and pulled my dress's zip up the rest of the way, knowing to do it without having to be asked.

"Remember how we discussed the concept of knocking?," I teased grabbing my pocket book and taking one last look around the room to make sure I had everything before we went out the door. "When did you steal my spare key back anyway? I confiscated it from you a week ago."

Damon shrugged nonchalantly, taking the stairs two at a time while I followed him to the ground floor. "Grabbed it back from behind the potted plant." He held the fire exit open for me while we both stepped out into the sunlight. "After having to sneak in through your window at the Sigma house for four years, I've earned a spare key."

"Not my fault there was a 'no boys in the bedroom' rule," I defended, waiting at the passenger door of his vintage blue Camaro that he had left right outside. Leaning across the windshield I swiped a rectangular piece of paper from under the wiper. "Here," I offered the slip to him. "You know you can't park on this road on Thursdays."

He took the ticket from my hand and after a cursory glance, threw it into his backseat to join the small pile of the other traffic violations he had accumulated. Knowing him like I did, Damon wouldn't deal with the consequences until he absolutely had to.

As we finally got onto the road, I rummaged through my purse and pulled out a mint green nail polish bottle, slipping my shoes off to let them fall onto the rubber matt below. I ignored Damon's under the breath mumbling as I positioned my bare foot in front of me on the dashboard, taking out the small brush from the varnish and swiping it over the nail on my big toe.

"Okay, what's your deal?" I eventually questioned, having held out asking until I had almost finished painting all the toenails on my right foot. "You've been throwing looks my way since we got in the car." I squinted and concentrated closer on my last toe as I waited for his reply.

"I don't know," he answered slowly, flipping the visor down and taking his aviators off to tuck into his shirt. "There's been something off about you lately and I'm trying to work out if I need to be worried."

Involuntarily, I leaned forward so my hair would shield my face. Since that letter had arrived, I'd been waiting for Damon to pick up that something was going on. We could read each other's moods like the weather. Unfortunately, there was no way I could talk about it now and potentially disrupt the rest of the day for us. It'd have to wait.

"You're being paranoid," I shot him a smirk I'd stolen straight from his playbook. "Everything is fine." Quickly, I stretched across and grabbed his sunglasses that he'd just removed, slipping them onto my face and returning to my in-transit pedicure.

"Mmhm," he murmured skeptically, thankfully turning back around and letting the subject drop. Intentionally making the car swerve, he jerked the wheel just enough so that I ended up with a big fat sponge of green on my foot, laughing boisterously when I glared in response. "That's what you get for treating my car like a beauty parlor."

After the customary fight over the radio stations and the quick flit through the nearest fast food Mexican restaurant, we arrived at our destination and stretched, our legs feeling permanently cramped.

"Lincoln High School," I read out loud from the stone sign perched on the grass. The dull brown building that looked almost exactly the same as every other other high school in the country rose up in front of us. We watched as a small group of teenagers with their black gowns billowing behind them ran into the auditorium, their hands on their caps to keep them from falling off. "Bring back any good memories?" I grinned, looking at Damon out of the corner of my eye as we followed the path we had just seen the students take.

Damon shivered, asking rhetorically "Does anyone really want to relive high school?". We strode quicker across a patch of grass, Damon lending me the crook of his arm to help as my heels sank into the soft ground below. Finally reaching the double door, Damon turned to me and I did a quick once over, brushing my fingers through his dark hair in an attempt to tame it.

"You're good," I assured and then handed the two tickets that Damon had given to me months ago for safe keeping to the woman at the door. "Are we sitting with Giuseppe and Jane?," I queried as we moved inside, instantly feeling the blast of the air conditioner and finding that most of the numerous seats in front of the stage had been already filled.

Damon shook his head, pulling me by the hand to the back row and into what looked like the last two plastic seats that were together. "They're in the Bahamas for their nineteenth wedding anniversary," he explained. Noticing my expression, he chuckled "No it's not that bad. Stefan told them to stay and enjoy themselves, besides he got a new SUV to make up for it."

I rolled my eyes and laughed along with him. Giuseppe and Jane; Damon's father and step-mother, were richer than God, but as blasé about anything serious and as free-spirited as you could imagine. A trait Damon had obviously inherited. They adored their children, but everybody knew they were more like everyone's best friends rather than actually being parental figures.

After Damon had found out my parents died in a car accident when I was fifteen and that my only remaining family member, my older sister, lived out of the country, he had insisted on bringing me home with him every vacation, holiday and summer during college. In turn Jane, Giuseppe, and Damon's half-brother Stefan had all become extended family to me and I loved them in all their eccentricities, even including the time Jane had decided we should be fruitarian for a whole summer.

My total inclusion into their life explained why I was now standing next to Damon at Stefan's high-school graduation. In a way Stefan was like an adopted brother to me. Throughout the years, I'd been there for Christmases and birthdays, helping him with homework and giving him the real truth about girls after Damon inevitably dispensed some horrible advice to him.

Bringing me back to the present, the principal came out onto the stage, stood behind her lectern and started to drone on unenthusiastically about how proud she was of the graduating class. She ended her speech by specifying a long list of rules for the rest of the ceremony, causing me to give Damon the side-eye and an elbow in the ribs as a warning when she mentioned 'no air horns'. That had him written all over it.

Damon got another elbow in the ribs when he hummed along loudly and nasally as possible to Pomp and Circumstance while the class filed in. I got him to sit patiently enough through the long line of students being called up alphabetically, and when eventually 'Salvatore, Stefan' was announced, we both stood and cheered louder than the other parents had before, Damon sticking two fingers in his mouth and whistling, pleased when Stefan flushed a bright red.

Damon didn't often let on how proud his was of his sibling, but as Stefan walked across the stage, accepted his Diploma and graduated with honors, you only had to look in his eyes to know how he felt.

Finishing everything off, the Valedictorian came out and nervously stuttered his way through the cookie-cutter farewell address. And then, thank god, the caps were thrown and Damon and I were free to move and force our way through the melee, searching out his brother.

Turning concurrently as we heard our names being yelled, we caught sight of Stefan jogging up to us, a pleased smile on his face. "You guys made it!."

"As if we'd miss it," I laughed, reaching forward and pinching Stefan's cheeks while Damon flicked at the tassel on his hat, taking up our favorite competition of 'who can embarrass little brother more'.

Stefan pushed our hands away, and groaned "You two are the worst and you both deserve to be sectioned."

Watching as Stefan's friends came and went, taking pictures with each other, I couldn't help but grow envious of the excitement Stefan carried about the future, everything was so open to him. And yet again the letter that was burning a hole in my bag was brought to the forefront of my mind. It was only when Stefan lowered the camera after taking a photo of Damon and I together and asked what was wrong with me that I realized I wasn't hiding my anxiety as well as I though I had been.

"Oh, she has a stick up her ass about something," Damon interrupted. He put an arm around my shoulder, leaning in close to my ear and growling "Probably needs to get laid."

I shoved him away, hitting his arm and venting "You can be a real bastard sometimes, you know that?"

Frowning at my inability to take a joke, Damon rolled his eyes and looked back at his brother who was studying us carefully.

"So what's going on with you, Damon?," Stefan asked, taking the heat off me. He always knew how to diffuse a situation. "Decided on med school yet?"

Damon bristled like he did whenever someone prodded him about what he wanted to do with his life. "Not yet, brother," he mocked in a overly-pleasant voice. Rubbing his hand against the back of his neck, he stared up to the sky "Just having fun right now, I'll know when it's right."

Looking over at me knowingly, I could tell Stefan wanted to say more about his brother's attitude but wisely kept quiet.

Brightening, Damon offered "Do you have time for dinner? We don't have to be back in the city till late."

Stefan shifted his stance uncomfortably and I jumped in before it got awkward. "I'm sure Stef has his own parties to get to, Damon. You remember what Grad night is like."

Shrugging apologetically, Stefan nodded. Damon waved it off, and acted like it wasn't a problem, but I could tell he would have liked to spend more time with his brother.

Hearing his named being called, Stefan turned around to glance at a group of boys and then looked back at us guiltily.

"Go have fun," Damon ordered, punching his brother lovingly on the shoulder. He pointed an index finger at Stefan, squinting his eyes "But not too much, I don't want a phone call from the cops tonight."

I laughed and leaned forward to hug Stefan around the neck, smacking a kiss on his cheek as I let go to make sure his humiliation was complete. "Proud of you, buddy."

"Thank, sis," Stefan grinned, wiping at his cheek with the back of his hand and then throwing us one last wave as an afterthought, he jogged away to his friends.

"Hey, I think Ric is off work tonight. We can get everyone together for a few drinks?" I mollified, catching the tightness in Damon's jaw. He nodded wordlessly and with one last glance behind, we slowly made our way back to the car.

Unusually everyone was free that night, and the few drinks turned into several. Bonnie, Caroline and I sat in the worn leather booth we'd used since college, while Damon and Alaric drew up the ancient bar stools to our table.

Realizing I was in a funky mood, the group let me sit back and just watch as they interacted. As the evening wore on, I became gradually more aware of how familiar everything seemed. Tonight could have been last Thursday. Or last Monday. Or most nights over the last year. My life started to turn into one continuous blur and it was like having a wicked case of déjà vu.

I silently followed Damon's gaze as it locked onto a girl walking past our table, wearing not much more than a scrap of a dress, and that's when my decision snapped into place for good.

"I'm moving to Milan," I declared casually, my fingers ripping apart the cardboard coaster in my lap.

Everyone around me fell silent, laughter trailing off and their heads whipped around, Caroline almost choking on the beer she had just swallowed. The bar music filled the quiet until Damon spoke up first. "What. Milan, Kansas?," he smirked smugly. "Don't be ridiculous, Elena. We all know you're not leaving."

"Milan, Italy, you asshole," I spat. Pulling the envelope out of my purse, I propelled it across the table for him to read. "And as for not leaving town, the tickets are booked for next week." Looking around at the rest of my friends, I exhaled deeply knowing I owed them an explanation. I played with the condensation on my beer bottle with my fingertip as I talked "A month ago Katherine called and let me know there was an internship opening at CoCo. She put in a good word for me and I did an interview over the phone. I won't be getting paid, but I can stay in an apartment of one of Katherine's friends who's working in France for a couple of months. If it goes well then there might be an opportunity to stay. They officially sent me the offer last week."

As Damon finished reading what I had just related to everyone else, he threw the letter back down onto the damp table like it was venomous. "So you're going to traipse after your irresponsible, mess of a sister to a different continent so you can pursue a career you have no interest in."

Damon and Katherine were like oil and water. The handful of times Katherine had visited, they just couldn't have had left worse impressions on each other. Each one thought the other was a bad influence on me. Yes, my sister _was_ bitchy, self-serving, and flighty, but you better believe that if you'd won her trust she would always have your back. Plus she was my sister, the last of my family, and that meant something.

"I don't want to hear it, Damon. She got me a foot in the door at one of the most influential fashion houses in the world. And while that's not exactly where I saw myself, I don't have a clue what I_ do_ want. I have to start somewhere. Why not there? It's a highly sought after internship."

The rest of the table watched silently as we volleyed back and forth from opposite ends, knowing by now it was best to let us just fight out whatever the problem was.

Curling his lip, Damon pointed out snidely "Your Italian about stretches to 'pizza' and 'cappuccino'. You won't make it a day out there. You hate spontaneity. You'll be miserable."

Irritation warred with an ache in my heart. "Wow, the support I'm feeling is overwhelming, thank you."

Alaric realized this wasn't just one of our run of the mill arguments we were having and tried to intervene. "Elena, I think we're just blindsided. I mean, your plane tickets are for next week, that's a huge change in a small amount of time."

I sighed in contrition, the wind being taken out of my sails. "I know. I didn't mean to keep it from all of you but to be honest I only just decided five seconds ago I was going to take it for sure. I need to start my life somewhere and this opportunity is staring me in the face."

Bonnie reached across and took my hand, smiling warmly "Elena, you know we'll support you whatever." Caroline nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling as she already started contemplating the shopping trip she would get to plan to help me pack. "And we'll have an excuse to visit you in Italy now. I mean, it's _Italy_!"

"So you're all serious. You guys are going to stand back while she continues with this farce and let her fall on her ass?" Damon scoffed and looked incredulously around the table. Met with no reply, he threw his hands up in exasperation and noisily pushed his stool back "Well you'll have to excuse me if I choose not to stick around and watch this." He stormed away, pushing through the crowd, without taking a look back.

Hurt more than I wanted to admit by his reaction, I let my head fall into my hands. "I could have done that better," I mumbled.

"He's only pissed because he realized he's the last one left screwing around with nothing to do," Alaric concluded. Patting my back twice, he finished "And he just doesn't want to lose you."

The next week was the quickest one I've ever lived through. Going against the impossible, and with the help of Caroline and Bonnie, I got everything packed up and purchased what I would need for a move to Europe. There was a furnished apartment waiting for me, so most of my things here went into storage. It was both exciting and terrifying, but never once did I regret my decision. I couldn't stand still anymore and watch the world pass by.

I hadn't heard from Damon since he the day he'd walked away from me at the bar.

The morning of my flight, I hovered around the apartment as long as I could. A part of me viciously needing to see Damon again, hating to leave it like that between us.

Eventually Caroline forced me into the car and got me to the airport. Everyone else I had said my farewells to last night, but Caroline could never skip out on a good emotional goodbye.

I stepped out onto the curb, dragging my two suitcases out of the trunk and marveling at how my whole life could just compress and fit into them. Caroline turned the engine off and got out the car, brushing away the parking attendant who tried to tell her this was a drop-off only point.

"You call me the second you land," she instructed, tears already brimming in her blue eyes. "I mean the _second_ you touch down."

I nodded and saluted, chuckling through my own tears. I looked up at the sky and sniffed, trying to keep them from overflowing. Teasing, I told her "I'm going to hug you and then go before we both start breaking down."

She threaded her arms around me, squeezing tight. "Good luck," she whispered. "Kick their asses."

Grabbing the handles of my luggage, I shot one last watery smile her way and moved through the sliding glass door of the terminal, almost breaking out in hysterical laughter when I could hear the argument she was having with the attendant growing fainter as I walked away.

"Elena!"

I spun around from my place in line, trying to seek the voice out.

Damon abruptly appeared out of the wall of people behind me, breathing a little harder than was normal, and looking sheepish. "Thank fuck I caught you, I thought I was going to be too late."

Cocking my head, I eyed him and queried sarcastically "I'm surprised to see you. I thought you were done."

He rolled his eyes "Can you just move to the side for a second so we can talk?"

Huffing, I walked out of line and followed him to a quieter place near a bank of chairs.

Studying me intensely for a minute, he reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear "I apologize for being such a monumental jackass the night at the bar. I just wasn't expecting you to come out with your little bombshell."

"Don't worry about it. It's fine," I eased, giving him some slack because I was just so happy I wouldn't be leaving without things right between us. Smiling, I said "You're forgiven. I'm glad you understand why-"

Damon broke in "No you don't get it. I am sorry for the way I flipped out but I haven't changed my mind, Elena." He sighed "I don't want you to go and make the biggest mistake of your life."

I looked at him, and instead of getting angry I finally let myself feel everything I had been repressing. How I let myself fall so completely in love with the guy in front of me, I'd never know, but it was in the furrow between his eyebrows, in the way that one time he'd held my hair back and sat with me the whole night while I was throwing up vodka martinis, it was in everything.

Oblivious to what was racing through my mind, he tried once more "You're my best friend."

Stepping forward so we were chest to chest, I cut a look up a him and took in his confused expression. Cupping his cheek with one hand, I bounced up lightly onto my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. Keeping it as soft and quick as possible, so I was driven crazy by getting just the barest hint of his taste, and so he wouldn't get the chance to decide if he wanted to respond or not, I stepped back and away, heart thumping against my ribcage.

"Is there a reason for me to stay?" I said, focusing straight into his eyes so there was no question or confusion about what I was really asking.

Face crumbling for the barest hint of a moment, he straightened up and his eyes cleared. "No," he answered. "No, I guess there isn't."

I nodded, realizing I really knew all along it wasn't like that for him. I touched my chin to my shoulder, brushed a tear away with the back of my hand, and smiled at him "Don't be a stranger, okay? And you take care of yourself."

Grabbing my suitcases again, this time it was me who walked away without looking back.

* * *

**A/N- **So because IAMB is almost done, I thought I might get this out now. Damon and Elena are both immature at this point of time and both have some growing up to do. The next chapter will continue after a few years time jump.

Luckily for me, dutch_treat had agreed to beta for me again, and I couldn't be more grateful. And a thank you to Kate for helping me choose Milan!

Drop me a line to let me know if you enjoyed x


	2. Chapter 2

Four years later and I was staring at a skating rink of a ring being thrust in front of my face. Now I'm no expert at this kind of thing, but I was pretty sure right about now my eyes were supposed to be widening in joy, not horror. Though, If I really wanted to be honest with myself, deep down I'd known where this was heading for a while and instead of sticking my head in the sand, I should have derailed the train long before it got to this point.

Dropping the dress I was folding to the ground, I met the eyes of my boyfriend and had to force back a oncoming panic attack at the expression on his face.

"Marco?" I enquired uncertainly, inwardly pleading with every religious entity I could think of that this wasn't happening right now, today of all days. "What's going on?"

He smiled, slender beams of the sunrise falling through the window behind him causing his olive skin to become even more pronounced. It was the kind of moment most girls would dream about.

"Marry me, Elena Gilbert, and do me the honor of becoming my wife."

Oh _shit_. Shit. Shit. Shit.

The first genius thing that came through my lips? "I can't, we have to leave for the airport soon."

As what I blurted out registered to the both of us, I clapped my palm over my mouth and Marco's hand that was holding the engagement ring fell to his side.

His face grew impassive. Sounding out the words to himself in disbelief, he reiterated and cocked his head "You can't accept my proposal because we have a plane to catch?"

"No. No that's not what I meant. I just ... We're literally about to leave so I can be a bridesmaid in a wedding on the other side of the world, and it's all a lot to take in right this second."

I let my voice trail away. I could see it in his eyes. He knew that if I had wanted this like he had, my answer would have been instantaneous and I wouldn't have been making lame excuses.

"I care about you so much," I reasoned, licking my chapped lips and trying to make it not so painfully obvious how much of a nightmare this was becoming. "But we've only been together a year."

When Marco and I had first met, I was in such a good place in my life. I had been living in Milan for almost three years, and was finally getting to the point where I felt like I understood Italy. Like I wasn't just the American tourist anymore. In fact the day before he and I met, CoCo had offered me a prime promotion, almost to my sister's level, and had sponsored and secured my extended work visa for as long as I wanted it.

Much to my surprise, I'd found myself smitten with the job and fashion as soon as I had started my first day there. Obviously, in the beginning, the position had been accepted as a hail-mary for a chance to get out of the rut I'd built back home, but it soon became a career I worked my ass off for. And the experiences it had created for me were unparalleled.

And then Marco happened. On paper he was everything I could ever want. A wealthy Italian architect who had gone to college back in the states, and from the start had understood explicitly the urge I'd followed when I moved out here. He was suave, and sophisticated, and miles different from anyone I'd ever come across before. He taught me how to cook and make love, and speak Italian like a native. Marco made me feel like the woman I wanted to be.

But there was a warmth that was missing. A disconnect I could never understand. We rarely let our arguments go deep, and it felt as though we never truly let our guards down. Like it would be unimaginable to let us catch a glimpse of each other's weaknesses.

So that fear of accepting that proposal wasn't because I didn't love him. It was because I was petrified that it was the wrong kind of love. No, I wasn't naive enough to expect to feel the same way about him as I had with Damon. I knew now that was just first love nonsense and had dropped all notions of experiencing that again a long time ago. But something wasn't right.

As awful as it sounded, I couldn't shake the feeling that agreeing to marry Marco would be like settling for the both of us. And that niggling awareness had been growing for a while. The proposal just served as a catalyst to blow everything wide open.

"Elena, people get married only weeks after they meet," he pointed out acidly, placing the ring on top of the bed and drawing his eyebrows together. "A year is a fair amount. Time shouldn't matter if it's meant to be."

And with that, he'd hit the nail on its head. If this was right, it wouldn't feel so wrong. I shook my head helplessly. "I'm just not ready, Marco. I'm still finding out who I am and we're in different places in our lives. Jesus, It was only the other week we were discussing me taking that position back home and you told me you'd never live in America again."

His mouth curled into a tight sneer. "Is that what this is all about? You're throwing a snit because I wouldn't consider moving? I hated living there for college and I wouldn't ever repeat the experience."

"But I do want to," I whispered, finally confessing to him what I'd been thinking about obsessively ever since CoCo had extended an offer to fill the opening in their Los Angeles branch. "I would never just expect you to come with me. But I miss home. I miss my friends."

Consequently, that was the big problem. Italy was an enthralling, beautiful country. It had given me the opportunity to grow and it had made a lot of my dreams come true. But I'd achieved what I had come here to do. To start my life. To try new things. And lately the homesickness had been wrapping tighter around me and the position back in the states couldn't have come at a more perfect time.

His jawline tightened, but other than that Marco looked chillingly unruffled. "So, what you're trying to tell me is no matter what, you're going back to the US? Screw our relationship?"

It wasn't until now that I'd been completely sure, but suddenly I knew without a doubt what the right thing to do was. "I still have three weeks before I have to give them my answer. But yes, I'm going to take it."

His features tightened imperceptibly and he nodded once, obviously coming to a decision."Well then there's no point in continuing this, is there? I don't believe in long distance relationships and neither of us are willing to concede to the other about where we live."

I watched as he solidly pulled the sleeves of his shirt down and pushed gold cufflinks through the buttonholes. As much as I had the desire to try and fix this, I knew that wasn't what would be healthiest for either of us. We'd just resent each other more until hate would take over.

"You know I love you," I attested, the words sounding like an apology and a surrender.

He considered this before speaking. "Just not enough though, right?"

My silence and bowed head were answer enough.

Uncharacteristically formal and aloof, Marco was taking the break-up steadily and uniformly. His mind instantly going to the cold, hard technicalities that would be needed to be determined.

"Well, taking this morning into account, I think it's safe to say I won't be accompanying you to the wedding." He looked around my bedroom, and even after the year we'd spent together there still were very few of his things laying around.

Trying to wrap my head around how quickly this was occurring, I nodded. "Of course. Of course I understand." Moving away from my half-packed suitcase, I approached him, unsure on where to go from here. "I'm sorry," I offered weakly, the platitude sounding so insubstantial to my ears.

"So am I," he returned, picking up the luggage that he'd brought over last night for the trip. "It's a shame it ended this way." The air thick with discomfort he walked to the door and turned around as I followed. "I hope you have a safe trip and anything we need to finalize can be done when you get back. You know how to get a hold of me."

He left a kiss on my cheek and just like that it was over. No screaming. No throwing things. Just ruthless acceptance and a relationship wiped away like smoke.

Not giving myself a minute of space and time to try and digest or accept what just happened, I picked up the phone as soon as the echoing of the front door closing stopped. There was no way I was going to this wedding alone and there was only one other person I could think of that would come with me with only a few hours notice and would have the time off of work already.

"_Baby sis_," the line picked up practically immediately. "_Aren't you supposed to be somewhere over the Atlantic by now_?"

I paused, chewing on the inside of my lip and debating the best way to word my proposition to get Katherine to agree to accompany me. "Not exactly," I started. "Marco and I just broke up."

"_Well that was a long time coming. What did he do to set that in motion, propose to you or something?"_

Her scoff told me she had no idea how accurate her throw away guess had been. My answering silence gave her a clue.

"_Oh shit, he did didn't he? So that must mean …" _Katherine let out a low whistle, "_That must mean you turned him down."_

Hearing it repeated back to me for the first time in simple terms made me feel like even more of a horrible person. "If you want to put it like that," I confirmed.

_"Jeeze, Elena. You don't pull any punches, do you?." _I could hear her sit forward on the sofa, indicating she was fully embroiled in the conversation. _"__So just like that it's over? How are you coping?"_

I took a second to explore that. Feeling a little anesthetized right now, I expected that the hurt and everything else would hit me later. A talent of mine had always been being able to push things like this to the back of my mind until I could have the space to process. And right now was definitely not that time. Still, even though I understood a one year relationship suddenly being over would take a while to adjust to, I was convinced now more than ever it was the right thing to do.

"I will be," I replied assuredly. "I don't think this will be one of the things I'm going to come to regret." Belatedly, it hit me what Katherine had said when I'd first told her the news. "Wait, what did you mean the break-up '_had been a long time coming_'?"

Expelling a long suffering sigh, Katherine reasoned _"I__t's just, I don't know, something didn't fit_" Anticipating a miffed response, she softened her commentary. "_Look, I barely knew the guy but he seemed like a good catch and marriage material …_"

"But … ?" I provoked.

"_But he didn't seem like the right one for you_," she rushed out in one breath, apparently glad to finally get her thoughts on my relationship out in the open. "_There was something missing_."

I scoffed at my totally pragmatic and unsentimental sister dropping those trite platitudes. "What like a _spark_?," I mocked.

Huffing, she grumbled _"__Yes, like a spark_." She shifted the phone to her other ear _"__I mean, why not? I can be sappy sometimes too_. _But if that's going to be your attitude that'll be all the sympathy you'll get out of me."_

I smirked. Catching the time on my watch out of the corner of my eye, I remembered the original point of the call. "Think your sympathy can stretch a little further?" I wheedlingly asked. "Because now Marco's not coming with me, I was hoping you may, _possibly_, want to fill my plus one spot for the wedding?"

_"__Oh God, Elena, I don't know_," she groaned.

"It's all expenses paid," I persuaded, seeing and taking my chance. "We fly back to Atlanta for a week so I can see Caroline and Bonnie and then it's only a few hours drive to Mystic Falls for the ceremony."

I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for her reply.

"_If, and I mean_ if, _I say yes, you have to acknowledge that I'm the best sister ever, and you'd owe me big time, _big, _and I intend to cash that in sometime in the future_."

"Yes. Yes, whatever you want Katherine. Biggest, best, sister of mine. Just tell me you can pack in less than an hour."

She chuckled down the phone derisively._ "Please, I could do it in my sleep." _Loving to keep me on tenterhooks, she hesitated a beat before relenting. _"__Fine, I'll go, just give me the details_."

I put my head in my hands a breathed a huge sigh of relief. My sister might be a pain in my ass, but I could always rely on her in an emergency. After I double checked she got the airport name and flight details correct, I remembered the most important question that needed to be asked. "And you feel okay to travel? You won't be missing any hospital appointments, right?" I confirmed.

"_Right, _mother,_"_ she taunted back, obviously wanting to breeze over my inquiries. _"Anyway, gotta go make myself even more beautiful. Mwah."_

Before I could say goodbye, the dial tone had replaced her voice.

The rest of my time went quickly enough. After calling the airport, changing the name on my extra ticket, and finishing packing it was time to leave. True to her word, Katherine was waiting, carrying a full set of luggage and an attitude as spiky as her heels.

We passed the plane ride by drinking as many of the miniature bottles of liquor the flight attendants deigned to slip to us. By the time we landed on US soil, we had just about covered the full spectrum of 'men are useless and we're better off without' talk and I was feeling pretty good. Suffice to say, I probably wouldn't be of the same view tomorrow morning when the alcohol caught up with us.

As if it was fate that intervened, when we arrived at the hotel, our room wasn't ready yet. Add that to the fact that I was with Katherine Gilbert and I didn't stand a chance. We migrated straight to the hotel bar and continued drinking. Jet leg from a ten hour flight? No problem!

It was only after we were a few mojitos deep that it actually registered I was back in America for the first time since I'd left four years ago. That had been a deliberately made promise to myself, no matter on how many occasions I had wanted to break it. Before I came back, I'd wanted to make sure I had made something of myself. That my time in Italy hadn't been a failure or a mistake. And finally looking around the bar, I let my self see that I had accomplished that. At least in my professional life.

Being surrounded by everyone's molasses-southern drawl, a Bud light sign above the bar, the pretzels and Lay's potato chips laid out in front of us, and Katherine drinking beside me had never felt so good. In fact when the bartender agreed to make some Buffalo wings for me even though they weren't on the menu it caused me to hang over the bar and smack a kiss on his cheek. It was good to be home.

I was in the middle of recounting a story about me accidentally stapling a very expensive dress to a very famous super-model a few years back when Katherine laughed so hard she fell off her bar-stool. Because this only caused us to laugh harder it took me a good five minutes to join her on the floor and catch sight of her ankle. Which just so happened to be already swelling and turning a nasty purple color, looking decidedly broken.

So that's how on my first night back in the states we ended up in the ER of the local hospital at three in the morning. The place hadn't changed at all since I had to bring Bonnie here after Caroline had unintentionally hit her around the head with a softball bat during one of our sorority games.

"See, this is why you should be banned from wearing stilettos of any type or form," I chastised Katherine while she settled into the hospital bed. The nurse, who had just taken our information, gave us a cursory glance before leaving and told us to wait for the doctor who'd be coming by shortly. "Because then you end up with your ankle looking like a gross mess."

Katherine groaned and half-heartedly threw an empty plastic cup at me that had been sitting on the bedside table. She laughed as she watched me perform an acrobatic move to duck its trajectory. Smirking, she ordered "Shut up. Otherwise I'll take the first plane back out of here."

Rolling my eyes, I grew a little more clear-headed and serious when something abruptly occurred to me. "Shit, Kat, are you even allowed to be drinking like you were?"

This time the expression my sister shot me was anything but playful. I understood enough about that look to know to back off. And quick.

Halfway through flipping through French Vogue, I saw Katherine's eyes hook onto something behind me and her lips curled in a humorous sneer. "No way," she snickered. "This is priceless."

When I turned around to see where she was looking, it took everything in me and each ounce of maturity I had not to hightail it straight back out of the door.

I mean it's not like I hadn't been expecting to see him at the wedding. But that was a week away! It wasn't supposed to have been this soon, with no warning, and in such close quarters where I had no chance of avoidance.

Of course it was Damon Salvatore standing behind me, drawing back the curtain and wearing a white coat. Of course Damon Salvatore would be Katherine's doctor. Because this was me we're talking about and if something momentously awkward had a chance of happening, you can damn well believe it'd happen to me.

Before he was standing right smack-dab in my line of sight, looking just as obscenely handsome as he had in college (if not more so), I hadn't seen or spoken to Damon for a long, long time.

I had stayed in touch with his family. His parents and brother had all visited me numerous times in Europe. As had Caroline and Bonnie. The only relationship that had fallen apart had been mine and Damon's.

At the beginning we'd tried. The first couple of weeks after I moved, we called each other often, almost daily. Convinced that I was in eternal danger in a new, foreign country, the majority of his calls were just him citing concern. We didn't talk about what had happened at the airport and he rarely talked about how he was. Everything between us now was filled with a strange, uncomfortable chill that was acutely painful to experience.

I think it was when he finally started to believe I wasn't coming back, that I wasn't going to give up, that the calls started to dwindle. They dwindled into nothing and we were only left playing a game of phone tag that never got resolved.

And it hurt like salt in a paper cut. I understood his reluctance to bring up all I had confessed to him in a kiss. He didn't feel the same way? Fine. I could have moved past that. But he evidently didn't want to try. His missing presence in my life stung too much, and all I felt was hollow, so I had to push him out. Had to sever all contact with him like he had with me. And with sheer determination I did.

Weird how the most stable, important bond I thought I had, crumbled so easily.

His shocked exclamation brought me back to the present. 'Wait, _Katherine Gilbert_?,". The palette of blue in his eyes that I'd forced myself to obliterate from my memory darted to the chart in his hand to double check the patient's name. His stare slid over to where I was half sitting-standing in the plastic chair at the side of the bed. "_Elena_?"

I think I gave him some poor excuse of a wave and a weak hello. "You're a doctor," I pointed out painfully unnecessarily. I wondered what had finally pushed him to go to medical school. "Here?"

See the thing was, I hadn't a clue where Damon was at in his life. I never told our friends what had happened and they'd never asked. But somewhere along the way they had started to understand Damon wasn't a topic I was willing to discuss or hear about. It was like his name wasn't in our vocabulary anymore.

"Yeah. First year resident," he related distractedly, his brows furrowed together and his head tilted. He opened his mouth to say something else to me before being interrupted by Katherine piping up.

"Glad we're all having a warm little reunion. But I'm pretty sure that's not what my insurance is paying for. Some medical attention would be nice."

Damon shook his head like he'd been in a stupor and dragged his gaze away from mine, refocusing on his patient. "I see you're still as pleasant as ever, Katherine," he gritted out, reading through her chart to see what she was in for.

The sudden blast of his biting wit started to yank at memories I'd worked way too hard on repressing. Trying to distract myself, I scrutinized a insipid art print hanging on the wall and told myself it'd all be over soon and I could forget about him until next week. Which I could prepare myself for, unlike what was going on right now.

Shining a pocket flashlight into my uncooperative sister's eyes to make certain her ankle was the only problem, Damon drew back as he caught a whiff of her breath. "No points for guessing what you've been doing tonight."

He glanced over his shoulder at me like he was evaluating if I was in the same state of inebriation. That look was rich coming from a man I'd had to wake up from sleeping in his next door neighbor's kid's sandbox. Countless times.

"Look, Dr. Damon," Katherine started, syrupy sweet. "Your bedside manner sucks. And just because you and my sister fucked a millennia ago or whatever, doesn't mean you get to be less professional with me." She grinned perkily "Is there a comment card I can fill out?"

I blanched. Of course she would think our loss of contact would have something to do with us sleeping together and him not calling me back. I'd never told her otherwise. The reality was far more pathetic.

Luckily for me Damon chose to let the comment slide.

In impeccable Italian, Katherine turned to me and called Damon every name under the sun while asking what I thought of this whole shit show.

"You forget, Miss Gilbert," Damon broke in, speaking in just as good Italian as my sister's, "that my father is Sicilian. My Italian is not too shabby either. But you're right, I _am_ still a bastard with no redeeming qualities." He turned the flashlight off and put it back into the pocket on his lab coat, the smirk on his face annoying me even further. That idiotic, moronic smirk made me feel like I'd never even left.

Katherine didn't bother looking embarrassed, nothing rarely did make her feel out of her comfort zone. But provoked by Damon's arrogance, and the irritation that he was bringing up things in me that were supposed to be long forgotten, I felt that I needed to win this.

"Looks like he's also still an insufferable asshole," I replied to her in the flawless French I had picked up from dealing often with reps from Chanel and Louis Vuitton, among others. "The sooner we get out of here the better."

Katherine smirked as Damon eyes shifted to mine, looking surprised. Let's see him try to butt in on that conversation!

"So you're trilingual now, Elena," he mentioned almost calculatedly, distracting himself from Katherine once again. "That's new."

I nodded mechanically, responding dispassionately and as sarcastically as possible, "I know right? It's like we don't even know each other anymore or something. Weird."

That had been the feeling I'd been attempting to fight off since he had stepped into the room. The sensation of us being strangers. It was bitter. Because, after all, they say the opposite of love is indifference.

Thankfully, once more, Damon stopped my thoughts from going there by speaking. It seemed like he had given up on interacting with us and had slipped back into being the doctor again. "Alright, it looks like all you got is a pretty clean break but we'll send you for X-rays just to be sure. Before you go, is there anything else I should know about your medical history that's not on the chart?"

I glared at Katherine, who suddenly had become very interested with her braid. Damon looked up when he got not reply, and watched as we engaged in a non-verbal battle between siblings.

Coughing loudly, I gave her a chance to confess before I had to intervene. She remained quiet. "Fine, I'll tell him" I threw my hands up. "Katherine is in remission from ovarian cancer."

"_Elena_," Katherine hissed, crossing her arms just like she did when we were kids and I told on her to mom. She glared at me and turned to look at the other wall.

I watched as Damon swallowed heavily and looked over at me, his bravado all gone. It was like for one, minute second we both forgot it wasn't his job to comfort me anymore.

We both snapped out of it at the same time, and while Damon listened to Katherine list her medications my mind drifted back to the phone call I had received from her. The one I got after her diagnosis that I'd never forget. Where she tried to be so brave but broke down crying anyway, probably the only time I'd heard her do that since our parents' funeral.

But we persevered because there was no way I'd let my last family member be taken from me. And we came through it stronger than ever.

Katherine and Damon disappeared to get her X-rays done and while I waited, I called Caroline to see if she could come pick us up. We weren't supposed to be seeing each other till tomorrow, and granted she was expecting me to be with Marco, but she insisted on coming nevertheless, her car keys already jangling in her hand when I explained the situation.

Damon didn't return when Katherine did, and eventually a few hours later she got discharged with a cast and prescription. Caroline came in to help my sister into the car with her crutches and I stayed behind to carry our things and sign the last of the papers.

Just as I was about to step through the glass sliding doors, balancing my handbag and Katherine's enormous oversized one, an arm shot past me, hitting the wall, and barring me from going any further. I looked up in shock, and was met by Damon staring at me intently, like he couldn't work out what was going on.

"What are you doing here, Elena?" he inquired, his eyes flashing vehemently.

I took a step back from him, his closeness making it hard to comprehend what he was saying. "What do you think?," I snapped back, more composed than I was feeling inside. "I'm a bridesmaid in the wedding."

Damon stared at me like I'd just told him scientists had changed their mind about the shape of the earth again.

"Stefan and Lexi's wedding?," I elaborated hoping to jog him into action. After getting close with Stefan's fiancée when she accompanied Stefan each time he'd visited, I was touched when she had asked me to be in her wedding party. "I only came to Atlanta first so I could see Caroline and Bonnie."

Damon stepped back, lowering his arm. "Stefan didn't mention you were coming."

I frowned. Did Damon even know that I'd stayed close with his family all these years? Or did he have a moratorium on my name being discussed around him as well?

The silence around us grew heavier, I glanced over his shoulder to see if Caroline had driven up to the entrance yet. "You're going, of course?," I wondered, trying to stay polite.

"Yeah, best man and all." He still seemed kind of dazed and I had no clue what his problem was. "You'll get to meet my girlfriend, Rose."

That kick and twist in my heart as a response was not meant to have happened and I grew further irritated with myself for letting it. I was supposed to be so past that. Perhaps it was just force of habit. "Yeah, maybe," I smiled tightly, finally seeing Caroline's black SUV crawl along the curb through the sliding doors.

Waiting for him to move, I eventually gave up and walked around him.

He called out quietly, stopping me one more time from leaving. "It was good to see you, Elena."

Smiling back in reply, hoping it didn't look like a grimace, I chose not to return the sentiment. I don't think either of us really knew _what_ to feel about turning up in each other's lives again.

* * *

**A/N-** So I finally got around to uploading the second chapter. I hope it didn't disappoint! Updates will be more regular now.

And, of course, a humongus thank you to Dutch_treat. Seriously, I don't know what I'd do without her help!


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